So, this week’s been a little on the difficult side. Hold on, who am I kidding: it been a crappy week, in terms of my writing, at least. Three rejections: one for a novel; one for an anthology; and one for two stories entered into a competition (does that make it four rejections? Probably). And that totally blows. I know we’re not supposed to say stuff like that out loud; we’re supposed to be stoic and accept rejection as part of the writing process because, you know, it makes us more resilient, and more persistent, writers. And that’s true, but screw it: right now, rejection sucks, and that’s the end of it. So what to do about this unenviable predicament? Well, there’s the Bernard Black (Dy

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